“I knew that it was a possibility,” he says, scrubbing his hands up and down his face. “Your mom wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was allowed to be dating people.”
“Allowed?”
“Your mom and I have been separated for the past four months. I don’t know the details of what she’s been doing.” He gestures toward the computer again. “And it’s not what I wanted. But …” He looks up at me intently. “Your mother has been through a lot in her life. She’s a good person, though. I think you know that. Whatever she’s been doing—”
“A good person who took off with some new boyfriend?” I ask. “Is that what’s going on here?”
“Come on, Cleo. She didn’t take off, obviously,” he says. “She’d never do that to you. And, what, left a bloody shoe to throw us off the trail?”
My brain is slowly piecing together how big this lie really is. My dad and I talk all the time, and, yeah, sometimes he’s traveling. But apart from the occasional work trip, he’s been acting like he was home the past four months.
“Where have you been staying, then?”
My dad winces, stares down at his shoes. His whole parenting brand has beenI’ll always give it to you straight.He’s told me about his mistakes and his bad decisions, the time he almost failed out of college, all the drugs he did, how he once stole a hundred dollars from his best friend to go to a concert. How he’s never been a hundred percent sure of anything because uncertainty is a part of life. It gave me permission not to be perfect every second of every day like my mom expected. And I’ve been so grateful for that. But being a straight-up liar? That’s something else entirely.
“I’ve been staying at Dan’s place in SoHo.” He looks down athis hands. He’s still wearing his wedding ring. “He’s out of town on location.”
“And you were never going to tell me?”
“I know it sounds bad,” he says. When he looks up at me, his eyes are shiny. “Honestly, it was kind of a no-win situation. Your mom thought that …”
“Oh, so this was Mom’s idea?” That’s kind of hard to believe when the whole situation screams impulsive and immature.
He shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. Obviously, I’m an adult. I could have refused to go along with it. It was a joint decision. We’re both responsible. But your mom, in particular, did think it would be better to wait until the end of the school year to tell you. After everything last semester with Kyle. You have your grades up now. She didn’t want this to derail you.”
I was on academic probation in the fall. But my mom was wrong about Kyle being the cause. It was a hard first semester, that’s all. I had all my science and math requirements to fulfill. When I met Kyle, I was already drowning. I mean, did things eventually become bad between Kyle and me, really bad? Yes, in the end. But my mom was freaking out way before that.
“So you’re saying you lied because of me?” I ask.
“Of course not, Cleo.” He closes his eyes again. “There’s no right answer here. Believe me. And your mom really thought—”
“Whose idea was it to separate?”
“I don’t think it matters who—”
“Whose idea?”
My dad is starting to look a little pissed now.
“Your mom suggested the separation.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true, Cleo,” he says. “You can ask her. When we find her, which we will, she’ll tell you. You know as well as I do that she won’t lie. She’s incapable of it.” This sounds like a criticism.
“Did you cheat on her?” That’s the only possible scenario I can imagine that would lead to this.
“No one cheated on anybody. God no,” my dad says quickly. I don’t know if I believe him. “Of course not. Your mom wasn’t happy. With me—Iwasn’t making her happy. And I don’t like saying it that way because it sounds like I’m making it her fault. And it’s not her fault. It’s reality.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Your mom and Iarereally different. Like opposites. I’m creative, and she’s … you know, she’s analytical. She lives in her head. That kind of difference can be exciting for a while. But maybe it’s not sustainable. Nothing is set in stone anyway. We aren’t divorced yet. We’re just taking some time.”
“Right.” But if my mom is already seeing other people, it seems like her mind is pretty made up. “Did you find out anything on the phone?”
“About what?”
“AboutMom? Come on, Dad, focus. Weren’t you talking to her office?”
“Oh, right, sorry. This whole situation is … it’s so shocking. Anyway, Jules doesn’t know anything. They spoke around the time you were supposed to get here. Your mom mentioned you were on the way, that she was looking forward to seeing you. She had a call scheduled later with a client, some Vivienne something. She didn’t pick up,” he says.
“And who was the other person you were talking to?” I want to know about the angry call. I want to know about this “fucking problem.” I want to know everything, not just the stuff he thinks I can handle.
